Amalia
the shield of safrin
The door opens. It's not supposed to do that.
There are footsteps on the path behind her. Those aren't supposed to be there.
There's a figure kneeling beside her, his hand on her shoulder both wonderfully familiar and terribly strange, the sound of his voice a wound and a balm, the press of his lips fire and ice. "You aren't supposed to be here," Amalia murmurs breathlessly, closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss upon her temple as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it is - a natural thing in this world, where the things she most fears and most yearns for can manifest, wretchedly beautiful and enticingly cruel.
It doesn't hurt that he feels so real, right down to his musty, slightly unwashed smell. Eyes still closed she shakes her head, trying to figure out why this feels so right and yet so wrong. "Did I wake you?" she finds herself asking, opening her eyes and turning just enough that his silhouette exists in the periphery of her vision, her mind still unwilling to give name or shape to the man. For some reason she feels cold, thinking about him asleep. "You seemed so peaceful, but I... oh, I missed you so much."
There are footsteps on the path behind her. Those aren't supposed to be there.
There's a figure kneeling beside her, his hand on her shoulder both wonderfully familiar and terribly strange, the sound of his voice a wound and a balm, the press of his lips fire and ice. "You aren't supposed to be here," Amalia murmurs breathlessly, closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss upon her temple as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it is - a natural thing in this world, where the things she most fears and most yearns for can manifest, wretchedly beautiful and enticingly cruel.
It doesn't hurt that he feels so real, right down to his musty, slightly unwashed smell. Eyes still closed she shakes her head, trying to figure out why this feels so right and yet so wrong. "Did I wake you?" she finds herself asking, opening her eyes and turning just enough that his silhouette exists in the periphery of her vision, her mind still unwilling to give name or shape to the man. For some reason she feels cold, thinking about him asleep. "You seemed so peaceful, but I... oh, I missed you so much."
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
